At night, the regiment returned to Camp Harrison, where it remained till the 14th of May. The enemy had burned the barracks at this place, and our men, not being provided with tents, were obliged to resort to a great variety of methods to shield themselves from the cold air and dense fogs at night. Rails were taken, placed against the breastworks, and covered with grass and green boughs, under which squads of five and six would sleep; others found lodging in the magazines, which were formed by deep excavations in the earth, covered with logs and sand; others still made them little huts of brush and reeds, while not a few had no other covering than a single blanket. The ground was low and marshy, and the exhalations from the neighboring swamp (the Dismal Swamp) and the accumulated offal of the camp, gave the whole air a foul odor, that eventually would have resulted disastrously to the health of the troops. On the morning of the 14th, however, the regiment received orders to march; and although the men knew nothing of what was in store for them, the order was joyfully received, because any change could not be otherwise than for the better. The regiment marched again to Norfolk, and crossing the ferry, entered the city of Portsmouth. After arriving here, it proceeded to the United States Marine Hospital, and went into camp, being supplied with Sibley tents, which were pitched upon the beautiful green lawn bordering upon the water, the officers taking up their quarters in the hospital.

A report reached General Wool, at this time, that members of the regiment had killed a number of swine while on their march from Ocean View to Norfolk, and the result was the following order:—

“Headquarters Department of Virginia, } “Fort Monroe, Va., May 12, 1862. }

“Brig. Gen. Egbert L. Viele,
Military Governor of Norfolk.

“Sir: It has been reported at these headquarters that certain soldiers of Colonel E. W. Pierce’s Twenty-ninth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers yesterday killed a number of hogs, private property of citizens living near Ocean View, Va. You will use every endeavor to ascertain who are the offenders, and, if you succeed, you will place them in close confinement and report them to these headquarters. If it should be ascertained that this report is true, you will cause the owners to be paid for the hogs at the rate of five dollars for each hog. If the money is not immediately paid, you will order the regiment to return to Newport News forthwith, and send the offender or offenders prisoners to Fort Monroe.

“By command of Major-General Wool.

“(Signed)Wm. D. Whipple, Asst. Adj. Gen.

The Colonel of the regiment was called upon by General Viele to explain the matter mentioned in the order. The affair was thoroughly investigated; but no evidence could be obtained to show that any member of the regiment killed the hogs, and the name of the person who gave the information to General Wool was requested. Here the whole affair ended; no one of the regiment was executed, nor was the regiment sent back to Newport News in disgrace on account of two or three defunct pigs, that probably belonged to the enemy’s camp, and not to private individuals.

This was a good season for orders. No sooner had the Major-General recovered from his wrath about the hog affair, than he began to think about his “skilful and gallant movement” on Norfolk, and the result was General Order No. 47, as replete with egotism and self-praise as it was long and gusty. The Major-General took great credit to himself for having “captured” Norfolk and Portsmouth, the fact being that these cities were evacuated by the Confederates in consequence of the movement of General McClellan on Richmond, and simply occupied by the troops under General Wool. Not a drop of blood was shed in the movement, and not the slightest resistance made by the Confederate commander. Indeed, the movement did not originate with General Wool, but was commenced upon the suggestion of President Lincoln.

The regiment remained at the Marine Hospital till the 20th, during which time it was almost constantly on duty. The duties performed were those of patrol, provost, and guard. The night-patrol service was sometimes exciting and amusing. The city was filled with dogs, mostly of the species known as “cur”; and as the patrol wended through the dark streets and narrow alleys, the canines would set up their howlings and yelps. Occasionally a large pack of these animals would make a sudden sally from out of some yard upon the passing soldiers, and then would follow a charge with fixed bayonets, from which the insolent dogs generally came off “second best,” leaving some of their pack stretched lifeless in the street.

Some of the women of Norfolk and Portsmouth were quite as spiteful towards the soldiers as were the dogs. The scene was not infrequent of a bevy of finely-dressed ladies parading the streets with small Confederate flags pinned to their breasts, and, on passing a soldier, gathering their skirts closely about their bodies, lest they should touch the hated “vandal.” And not seldom these fiery women would indulge in insulting and taunting language. Another, and, if possible, still more fiendish manifestation of hatred of the soldiers, consisted in politely presenting them with beautiful bouquets, filled with needles. The giver would station herself at some convenient point of observation after doing this, and wait patiently for the soldier to press the flowers to his face, when up would go a loud shout of exultation. Few, if any, indignities were visited upon the perpetrators of these petty, though annoying, insults, the good breeding of our men usually preventing them from indulging in either harsh or insulting language, though their ingenuity generally enabled them to do or say something in return that made their fair assailants feel any way but pleased with the result. There were, however, among the people of Portsmouth, and especially,among the former employés at the navy-yard, those who still loved the Union, and who remembered with gratitude that for many years they and their children had enjoyed a comfortable support from the labor which the Government had regularly furnished them. One day, when Captain Leach’s company was on guard duty at Newtown (a part of the city), in the vicinity of the navy-yard, the loyal people there welcomed them by a display of American flags. The whole settlement was radiant with bunting—streamers, ships’ flags, jacks, and pennants—which had been saved from the yard in April, 1861, when the place was abandoned by the United States officers. How these poor people had managed to keep these emblems of loyalty during the year that had elapsed, was something of a mystery, considering how strict was the surveillance under which all suspected Unionists had been placed. But they had hidden them under carpets, in attics, and cellars; and one old gentleman stated that his had been boxed up tightly and buried in his garden, and the musty, soiled appearance of the flags showed plainly these statements were true.

On the 20th of May, the regiment broke camp at the Marine Hospital, and marched through Portsmouth to the Gosport Navy-Yard, near which it went into camp. The camping-ground was by no means pleasant, nor the means of comfort there afforded great. On the following day, the Quartermaster reduced the number of tents, at which there was considerable fault found; but by this time the majority of the men had arrived at that desirable point in a soldier’s life, where they treated every discomfort and privation as a necessary part of their military experience. Only four days were spent here, when the regiment again moved, this time some five miles from the city, encamping in an extensive clover-field, that was named by Colonel Pierce “Camp Andrew.”

While here, the men were kept quite active in drilling, and in the performance of guard and picket duty. The location of the camp was only a little less unhealthy than that of Camp Harrison. On the 26th, the regiment moved again, going just outside of a line of earthworks that had been thrown up by the enemy during their occupation. At this place, which was called “Camp of Advanced Post,” were also the Twentieth New York and a Pennsylvania regiment. The latter manifested a strange fancy for animals; a black bear, a score or more of dogs and cats, and a troop of monkeys making up the list. On the night of the 30th, occurred a severe thunder and rain storm; the camp was flooded, and the lightning lit up the neighboring forest at every flash.

It was at this place that an attempt was made by a slave-master to pursue his runaway negroes into the camp of the regiment. Captain Samuel H. Doten was officer of the day on the first occasion; the master requested of the Captain, permission to search the camp for his two negroes, whom he suspected were concealed there, having followed the regiment from Portsmouth, but his request was flatly refused. The planter being satisfied that he could not succeed without some authority from headquarters, called on General Viele, and after telling his story, had no difficulty in obtaining from that officer an order directed to the Colonel of the Twenty-ninth Regiment to immediately produce the negroes in question and turn them over to their owner. Armed with this order, the citizen appeared the next day, and demanded of Captain Thomas W. Clarke (who had succeeded Doten as officer of the day), in the arrogant plantation style, permission to search the camp for his missing servants, at the same time exhibiting the order from General Viele. Like his predecessor, Clarke refused to grant the request, but on the ground that it was improper to allow citizens to search the camp, and especially in an enemy’s country, and that, moreover, the order did not give the bearer any such authority. The citizen was therefore retained on the guard line, and the order taken by Clarke to headquarters, where a consultation with the Colonel was had. The order demanded the giving up of the slaves, and thus rendered a search imperative; but it was concluded that the search should be made, not by the citizen, but by the non-commissioned officers of each company. Curious as it may seem, notwithstanding a most thorough hunt was made, and that there were a large number of negroes in camp, the particular negroes inquired for were not found, and the citizen was compelled to return without his slaves.